cultivate it."

"Well, they say there's nothing like society for that sort of
cultivation," said Dicky with another laugh. "They don't say what kind,
but I've got a pretty good stock here to choose from." He was at his
ease in banter again, but it struck unpleasantly on me that there was
something behind.

"Oh, here's a queer friend," he said suddenly, looking to the door.
"I'd better speak to him on the matter of countersigns."

"By all means," I said, turning in my chair to survey the new-comer.

I saw the face for an instant. The man wore a sou'wester, and he had
drawn his thick, rough coat up as though he would hide his head under
the collar. Cheek and chin I could see were covered by a thick blond
beard. His movements were apparently clumsy, but his figure was lithe
and sinuous. And his eyes! Once seen they never could be forgotten. At
their glance, beard and sou'wester dropped away before my fancy, and I
saw in my inner vision the man of the serpent glance who had chilled my
spirit when I had first put foot in the city. It flashed on me in an
instant that this was the same man disguised, who had ventured into the
midst of his enemies to see what he might learn of their plans.

As I watched Dicky advance and greet the new-comer with apparent
inquiry, a low harsh voice behind gave me a start of surprise.

"This is your wine, I think,"--and a lean, wrinkled arm passed over my
shoulder, and a wrinkled face came near my own.